


The Perfect Bait

by Thlayli_ra



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Abduction, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Gets a bit dark but, Happy Ending, Secret Relationship, Stalking, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-01-13 22:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thlayli_ra/pseuds/Thlayli_ra
Summary: AJ Lee's love life is complicated.If it wasn't bad enough that she's been secretly dating WWE Champion CM Punk, and is now deciding whether it's the elusive 'L' word, but now her maniacal stalker has reared his jealous head. Things only go from bad to worse when Punk falls into the stalker's clutches and becomes the perfect bait to lure AJ to his side, forever.





	1. Chapter 1 (AJ Lee)

**Author's Note:**

> Another fanfic, here we go!  
This is actually the first CM Punk fanfic I wrote (a good few years ago) and after seeing the positive response for Scorched Earth, I thought I'd tweak it and post it up for all of you lovely people. This is much, MUCH shorter than SE - only 9 chapters! - and even though it goes through a bit of a dark spell, I promise that it has a happy ending!  
As always, fill my life with sunshine by sending me comments and kudos. Enjoy!
> 
> Note: I'm messing with the official timeline a little here - instead of getting together in 2013, AJ and Punk start dating during Punk's babyface run with the championship in 2012 (purely because I want him to smash a dude in the face with the belt later on)

AJ Lee stood in the WWE backstage canteen, listening to the familiar droning of dozens of conversations, the clanking of cutlery and the sizzle of hot food. In her hands, she clutched her paper plate, absentmindedly crushing it between her fingers. Her mind was not focused as she stared down at the over-cooked chicken bathing in its own grease. She picked up a pair of silver tongs and poked it, swearing she could hear the dry meat sighing out in despair. Must be feeling the same way as her.

Stifled. Isolated.

She had been feeling this way for some time.

She was a little girl when she had fallen in love with wrestling. The larger than life characters became her idols and when she had first joined the WWE, she had felt like a mortal walking amongst Gods. But the WWE she had known back then was a different beast now! The women’s division had become the Diva’s, the name being patronising enough, but the fact that they only seemed to hire ex-models with little to no in-ring skills irked her. She considered herself a _wrestler_, not a piece of eye candy, and she was desperate to prove herself, show the WWE Universe what she could do between the ropes.

Not how many guys she could kiss.

She looked up from the chicken and gazed around the vacant faces around her. She hated the backstage politics, rife in this claustrophobic atmosphere. Everybody had an opinion and almost everybody was willing to kiss enough backside to reach the top. She was considered different: a geek who enjoyed sitting in a corner reading comic books, who wasn’t willing to put out to better her spot on the card.

Her attention was suddenly drawn to a sound she knew (and instantly reviled) behind her. Not bothering to turn around, she moved across to the opposite side of the buffet to peek out the corner of her eye at two hyenas giggling among themselves. Stephanie McMahon and Triple H! Speaking of backstage politics…

It was no secret that Stephanie and AJ did not see eye to eye. They disagreed on how the company should be run, especially the women’s division and AJ had been very vocal on the matter. Stephanie expected respect from the roster, mainly on account of her ‘daddy’, and did not take kindly to those who refused to give it to her. Stephanie had ensured that AJ was made to feel like an outsider and she was often subjected to childish acts like this. However, AJ soon realised it was not her that they were mocking. She followed their gaze across to the front of the buffet to a new arrival, tattoos lining his arms, his raven hair slicked back and his lip piercing glinting through the dismal light.

CM Punk!

She felt her heart skip a beat, which made her smile. Surely she was too old for such schoolgirl behaviour yet she could already feel her cheeks turning a deep pink. Unknown to her colleagues littering the cafeteria, AJ and Punk had been seeing each other, romantically. Sure, it had only been four dates, but she had had the most fun in years and was considering whether this should turn into something more serious. They were very similar people: they were both self-proclaimed geeks, enjoying films and comic books and they had grown up with wrestling. He could also make her laugh at the drop of a hat, once sneaking up behind her during a live interview and making her scream. She had got him back though, pulling off the same prank, although he had laughed instead of screamed – far more dignified!

Another snide giggle from behind wrenched her away from her happy thoughts. In her peripheral vision, she could see Triple H raise the lid of the cloche in front of him, a sweaty steak simmering inside.

‘Over here, Punk. Mmmmm, look at me, all juicy and tender. Don’t you want me Punk? Huh?’ Triple H smirked in a squeaky voice, raising the lid to make it look like the cloche was speaking. ‘Nummy nummy steak, mmmmmm’. Stephanie was beside herself, placing her hand over her mouth to stop an outburst of laughing.

AJ felt an overwhelming anger rise up in her gut. Punk had never outright told her how self-conscious he was about his body, but she had picked up little things to see how much it bothered him. Since re-signing with the WWE a year ago, he had given up meat and kept to a strict vegan diet to improve his physique. Many believed it would last a week, forgetting that Punk had been straight-edge his whole life – if anybody possessed discipline, it was him!

The WWE, however, was not the most contemporary company in the world and providing a vegetarian, let alone vegan, alternative was almost unheard of. AJ sighed as she watched Punk wander amongst the hot plates on offer, hearing him mutter to himself ‘Nope, can’t eat that, or that….. or that…’. He must have heard the taunts coming from the Helmsley’s but was making a good show of ignoring them.

She smiled to herself. Maybe that was why he had made such an impression on her. They were similar, professionally as well as personally. Classic, old-school wrestlers, who cared more about the performance that the gimmick. Both had faces that didn’t fit. Both were outspoken and rebellious and paid the price for it. He was her ally and she was his, fighting against the whole world.

She returned to reality as Punk’s bright olive eyes locked onto hers. He gave her one of his cheeky, lopsided grins, making her heart flutter again. She returned the smile as he walked over to her, his paper plate still sad and empty.

‘Hey Ape,’ he grinned. ‘You eating too?’

‘Yeap,’ she sighed, happily. ‘Once I find something edible.’

‘Tell me about it. Think it’ll be bread for me again. Yay!’ he smiled sarcastically and gave her an ironic thumbs up. ‘I’ll come find you in a minute, ok?’ He shuffled over to the rest of the buffet, casting a critical eye on his remaining choices.

AJ shoved some food on to her plate and went in search for a seat. Hearing a sharp whistle to her left, she saw a hand waving her over. She smiled as she recognised Kofi Kingston, one of the few friends she had at the WWE. Kofi was tucking into his characteristically large meal with relish, barely using the cutlery set next to his plate. It was a well-known fact that he was a terrible eater and only those with a strong stomach were brave enough to sit next to him. Kofi always had a story to tell though so AJ didn’t mind taking the risk.

‘So it happened again…’ AJ had barely sat down before Kofi started his latest tale of hijinks.

‘Oh no, not again! What was it this time?’ AJ knew this game well.

‘A raccoon, and a pissed raccoon at that! I just walked into the changing room and there is was, sitting in my bag, staring me down with its best ‘I’m-a kill you’ face. Seriously, it was like staring down a furry Undertaker. I just started laughing and the damn thing lunged at me. If I hadn’t found that broom, I’d be in the hospital needing a tetanus shot right now.’ Kofi broke out into broad laugh, suggesting that the episode was not quite the tense adventure he was painting.

‘These pranks are getting a bit silly now guys. How old are you?’

‘Never you mind!’

‘Ooh I know this!’ Punk intervened, taking a seat next to Kofi but before he could spout any cheek, he received a swift punch in the arm ‘Ah-owww, what? I didn’t say anything!’

‘But you were going to,’ Kofi chastised him, ‘and it wasn’t going to be nice.’

‘How do you know?’ Punk shot at him but it was AJ who replied.

‘You have a track record,’ she smirked at Punk who put on his most hurt expression. ‘And anyway, you’re the last one to make jokes about somebody’s age, _Grandpa!’_

‘Is that so, _kiddo_?’ he shot back and she pouted back at him.

‘Hey, don’t pick on AJ just cause you’re over a hundred! OWWW!’ Kofi paid the price for coming to AJ’s aid as Punk unleashed his own punch on the high-flyer’s arm in retribution. ‘That’s it, you’ve broken it.’ Kofi lifted his arm with his other hand and let it flop comically onto the table. ‘No match for me tonight. Punk, my friend, you’ll have to fight Mark Hendry for me’.

‘Hah, no way! Just tape it up, you’ll be fine.’ Punk patted the ‘broken’ arm and Kofi flinched, selling the injury like a professional.

‘You two are soooo hilarious,’ AJ smirked at the pair.

‘You’re just jealous because I was his first,’ Kofi smiled. He was the only person at the WWE who knew they were dating and he ribbed them relentlessly about it. From their early days in ECW, CM Punk and Kofi had been self-proclaimed ‘road wives’, travelling together to venues in banged up rentals. Kofi had made a joke about Punk cheating on him with AJ and the pair found this so funny it became their sole topic of conversation.

‘Hey, at least she puts out,’ Punk joked, before clamping his mouth shut and averting his gaze like a struck dog on seeing the look of wrath on AJ’s face. Kofi sat frozen, a mix of shock and laughter on his face. Both waited in silence for AJ’s retaliation.

‘Keep talking like that, _Punk,_ and Kofi will be the one to keep you warm tonight.’ AJ couldn’t hold back the smile as Kofi let out a loud _‘Oooohh burrrrnnnn_’ and Punk’s hunched shoulders relaxed.

AJ finished off her plate and got up to leave. Punk, on seeing her stand, discarded the rest of his bread and vegetables swimming in oil, and got up too. ‘Hey, I’ll see you out.’

‘Good thinking, Punk. You’ve got some first-rate begging to do.’ Kofi chuckled as he watched the pair leave, Punk flipping him the bird as they went.


	2. Chapter 2 (CM Punk)

Punk and AJ started to relax as they walked out the canteen area and away from prying eyes. Punk strode gingerly by her side, feeling an overwhelming urge to grab her hand, to kiss her and hold her close. He wasn’t exactly a shy guy and he had dated so many women, hell, so many Divas up to that point, but yet, AJ made him feel like a jobber in his first match. It had been her idea to keep their relationship a secret and he could understand why. Some of the Divas could be quite catty and AJ didn’t need any more feuds backstage, especially over the heads of a dirty punk kid like himself.

They walked over to the parking lot in silence, Punk feeling a tension in his chest. ‘Listen… about what I said, I was joking, I promise….. Kofi knows we haven’t… you know….’

He stopped suddenly as AJ burst out laughing. ‘All men are the same. You’re all children. I knew it was a joke.’

‘So, you’re not mad?’

‘No, I’m not mad.’

Punk relaxed, his smile lifting again. He slid his tattooed hands into the back pockets of his worn jeans and let out a sigh. ‘So….’

‘So?’

‘So, there’s this place back in Chicago that I’ve been meaning to try out. They apparently do a great vegan burger. And since, we have a couple of days off after the next house show, I was wondering…?’

‘Date Five?’

‘If you’re keeping count…’

‘Date Five? In Chicago? At yours?’

‘I have a spare room. I have, like fifty spare rooms so you can take your pick.’

‘Is that what we’re doing then?’

Punk ran his hands along his gelled hair and let out a long, frustrated sigh. ‘What are we doing? Is this… something?’ _Here we go_, he thought to himself. The silence hung around them like a nasty smell, only the sound of their feet shuffling as they walked. Punk’s hands kept wandering, one second they were in his pockets then crossed over his chest then in his hair. He nibbled his lip ring nervously, eyeing AJ out the corner of his eye. She was walking with her head down, not wanting to face him. The silence was killing him.

‘Cause, listen, I understand if it’s not, ok?’ AJ looked up at him suddenly. ‘I mean, we gave it a go and if it didn’t work, that’s fine, at least we tried._’ I mean look at you, and look at me. We’re not exactly in the same league, right? I know, it must be embarrassing being seen with me and that’s why you wanted it kept a secret._ The dark thoughts were coming back and clouding his mind. He tried to put his selfishness aside and to think about AJ’s feeling but once the darkness descended it clung to him and was hard to scrub away.

AJ reached out and grabbed the ties of Punk’s hoodie, tugging them down forcefully. Punk’s head lunged forward and she caught his lips with hers. Punk, initially caught off-guard, relaxed into the kiss and suddenly everything was better. The dark thoughts evaporated and a feeling of weightlessness came over him. He placed his arms around her petite frame and kissed her passionately. She was amazing! Nobody else could make him feel this way. He wanted to be with her forever.

He watched mesmerised as AJ broke away gently from his embrace. ‘I don’t want to mess this up. Let’s take this slowly, ok?’ Punk heart sunk, but he smiled and nodded all the same. He didn’t want to take this slowly. He was standing at the edge, staring into a dark, black abyss below yet all he wanted to do was dive straight in and damn the consequences.

AJ began walking on again and Punk followed behind, his thumb rubbing his lips gently, still tasting her on them. His fingers were craving to touch her again, to hold her around her toned waist and caress her soft brown skin.

He heard a loud gasp and looked up to see AJ frozen to the spot, her body twitching suddenly as if from shock. He ran up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, about to ask her what was wrong, when he followed her gaze and saw the issue.

Scattered around their feet were hundreds of shards of broken glass. The trail lead to the shattered windshield of a car, smashed in by a crow bar that now lay discarded on the ground.

‘Shit… is that your rental?’ Punk whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing insecure Punk - it's like the soft, nougetty centre beneath the tough outer shell!


	3. Chapter 3 (AJ Lee)

AJ stood shivering next to Punk, her eyes filling up with tears. The idea that somebody had managed to sneak their way into the parking lot and smash not just the windshield but every window of her rental car made her feel so vulnerable all of a sudden. Why would anybody do this?

‘Stay here,’ ordered Punk under his breath as he made his way over the shattered glass. AJ snapped to reality and grabbed his arm.

‘No, no, wait! What if the guy who did this is still hiding around here, somewhere?’

Punk fixed her with one of his intense glares. His jaw was set and he was breathing heavily with anger, his cheeks puffing out with each exhale. ‘Then I’m gonna find him and punch him right in the throat. Go get security.’

‘No, I’m staying with you.’ AJ gripped the sleeve of Punk’s hoodie tightly and fixed him with one of her own stubborn stares.

‘Stay close.’ Punk turned and softly stepped over the glass, trying hard not to make any noise as they moved towards the rental. AJ’s heart was racing and she gripped Punk’s sleeve even tighter. He made her feel safe but she was not worried for herself. She watched his broad back and shoulders and imagined them lying in a pool of blood. She shivered and shook the thought from her mind.

Punk examined the remains of the windshield, his breathing growing more rapid as he saw the extent of the damage. AJ couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline or anger that was making him act this way. She watched his fist clench so hard it shook and knew that if anybody was lurking nearby, they were in for the beating of a lifetime.

Punk stalked around the side of the car, looking for any other signs of foul play as AJ let go of his hoodie, spotting something on the ground. Bending down, she retrieved a torn piece of paper but she couldn’t make out the blurry image on it. Another shred of paper lay a few feet away followed by another and another. She followed the trail, picking up every fragment she could see.

Punk soon returned, his jeans letting out a whispered rustle as he walked towards her. ‘Asshole did a real number on it,’ he spat, glancing around him, almost daring the culprit to come out of the shadows. ‘Knowing my fair share of rental companies, they’re gonna pounce on this like pigs on shit, bunch of-‘

AJ hadn’t heard him. She was far, far away, leaning down over the hood of the car. She didn’t even realise she was shaking until she felt Punk wrap his hooded jacket around her shoulders. ‘Hey, it’s ok,’ he soothed in her ear, his large, warm hands rubbing gently up and down her arms. ‘I can pay for the damages. Call it a-‘ He paused and she saw him glance over her shoulder onto the hood of the car. ‘What the fuck is that?’

AJ stared down at the fragments of paper she had collected and pieced together like a puzzle on the battered hood of her rental. What had caught Punk’s attention was the bold, black letters scrawled across it.

_Whore!_

‘When I find out who did this, I’m going to Fuck. Them. Up,’ Punk muttered under his breath, barely keeping his explosive anger under control.

AJ felt as if she were floating in a daydream. Who would do this? Was it somebody at the WWE? Was this how low Stephanie McMahon would sink to make her life miserable? Her head felt light all of a sudden.

‘Ape, come here.’ Punk’s gentle voice brought her back to reality and she turned to embed her face into his chest. She breathed in deep, inhaling his masculine scent, feeling safe and warm for a fleeting second until the arms holding her began to tense up.

‘Phil…?’ she gazed up at him, seeing his hazel eyes widen with horror. She pulled back, feeling dread gnaw at her. ‘Phil? What’s wrong?’

‘It’s us!’ He motioned with his head towards the paper fragments and she turned to look but couldn’t decipher what he meant. ‘Look, you see it? That’s the coffee house back in Boston, three weeks ago. It was so early in the morning that we managed to get the window seat.’ He pointed at the blurry image hidden behind the large, black letters and she finally made out a distinctive splash of white and blue.

‘Your Cubs cap – that’s right, you had it on that day. And look, that’s the waterfront where we went for a walk afterwards.’ Her eyes widened, pointing to another corner of the image. ‘And that’s the movie theatre we went to last week. Phil, these are all photos of us on our dates.’ She turned to him with panic in her eyes. ‘Someone’s been following us this whole time, photographing us, watching us? For a whole month! The same person who broke in here. They could be watching us right now.’

A shiver rode up her spine as she stared around. Suddenly everything seemed like a camera lens, watching her every move. She felt so violated, like she had been stripped bare and put on display for all to see. If this maniac had photographed their dates, what else had he snapped? Had he been in her hotel room, placing cameras in her shower? Did he know where she lived?

AJ’s legs gave out beneath her and she fell to the floor. Punk jolted to life and grabbed her as she fell, letting her collapse into his strong, muscular arms. She turned her face into his heaving chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, his fingers stroking through her hair softly.

‘Can I stay with you tonight?’ She felt Punk’s grip tighten a fraction more.

‘Of course.’


	4. Chapter 4 (CM Punk)

Punk grunted as he stretched his back out. He could feel that familiar pain on his lower spine again, second day running. Kofi watched the WWE Champion from the other side of the private locker-room and smirked at his friend’s discomfort.

‘Back bothering you again, huh? You guys are like animals.’

Punk turned and gave his friend a death stare. ‘Hardy har har! I’ll have you know, Phillip Jack Brooks is a gentlemen. I let AJ have the double bed. I’ve been sleeping in one of the bunks.’ He grunted again as he continued stretching. ‘Gah, and they are not made for people over 6ft, it seems.’

‘You really want me to believe that you’ve been sharing a tour bus with AJ, the love of your life for a week now and you haven’t done a thing about it?’

‘I’m straight-edge,’ Punk fixed Kofi with a cheeky grin, ‘we don’t indulge in promiscuous sex.’

‘Fuck you, man,’ Kofi laughed. ‘I can believe you’ve never had a beer but _that_ is utter bullshit!’

Punk merely raised his eyebrows and smirked mysteriously in reply. ‘Right, I’m going for a warm up before my match. I’ll see you and your dirty mind later.’ Punk rummaged around in his bag. ‘Damn it!’

‘Left your headphones on the bus again?’ Kofi raised an eyebrow.

‘…yes…’

‘AJ gonna be there when you go get them?’

‘Fuck you!’

‘Punk, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls, wearing these headphones. Wearing _only _these headpho-,’ Kofi ducked as Punk’s bag narrowly missed his head.

‘You’re lucky I don’t hate you as much as other people,’ Punk warned the high-flyer as he grabbed his WWE Championship belt and headed out the door.

Punk wandered through the backstage area towards the bus depot. He popped the heavy belt over his shoulder as he tucked the back of his grey ‘We Believe In Punk’ T-shirt into the waistband of his signature Chicago flag trunks. Once sorted, he wrapped his Championship belt around his waist, buckling it at the back. He was proud of being Champ and made an example to the rest of the boys by always wearing it, even though it weighed a ton!

He reached the depot and searched for his bus. It was eerily quiet in the large cavernous room, the space swallowing every sound, minus the shuffle of his boots on the concrete. Looking around, Punk couldn’t see another soul – _Raw_ had just started and everybody was beavering away, ensuring it ran smoothly.

Finally reaching his bus, Punk pushed the button to open his door and wandered inside. He entered the familiar living area he had spent more time in than his luxury apartment in Chicago, and spotted his headphones waiting on the side table as normal. His mind must have been elsewhere earlier, and why shouldn’t it be? AJ had been staying with him for a week, the rumours had been flying around the locker-room and still AJ didn’t want ‘the talk’. He had promised he would not force the subject, that they would take it slow and that was fine but he was still human.

Punk stopped breathing!

He froze in place, his heart starting to race in his chest.

There was somebody else in the bus with him!

He’d heard a shuffle coming from the bedroom area, small but distinct. It wasn’t AJ, he knew that she was safely standing ringside. Could the intruder be the very same guy who’d trashed AJ’s rental?

Punk looked around him for a weapon to use. The kitchen area was inches away but opening a drawer may alert the intruder to his presence. Softly, he unbuckled the heavy belt from around his waist and held it high, ready to bludgeon the trespasser with it. He made his way towards the bedroom, keeping as silent as possible. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he tried to keep his shaking fingers under control.

A foot away from the bedroom now and a man appeared in the doorway. He looked up with a shocked expression; clearly he had not heard Punk enter. Punk rushed forward and brought the belt crashing down onto the stranger’s skull. The man crumbled with the force of the blow and Punk fell to the floor with him, the belt skidding away from his grasp.

‘Fuck!’ cried Punk as he pushed himself up again and forced himself to his feet. He looked down at the intruder lying on the ground. He was bloody, but he was still awake and was trying to get to his feet. The adrenaline was thumping through Punk’s system now and he was aching for a fight.

‘Come on, you son of a bitch!’ he yelled at the invader. ‘Get up! You wanna fuck with me? Come on! I fucking dare you!’

The man sat back against the bed, wiped the blood from his head and looked back at Punk, a large grin plastered on his face. ‘Ok.’

Suddenly, something wrapped around Punk’s ankles and his feet were pulled out from underneath him. He went crashing against the floor, barely having time to realise what happened before he was being dragged across the carpet away from the stranger and back to the living area of the bus. Dizzy and confused, it wasn’t until one wrist had been dragged behind his back and handcuffed that he realised the intruder had a friend with him. A very large and very strong friend!

Punk felt his other wrist being grabbed and forced it free, throwing it out in front of him. A face appeared in his peripheral vision and without hesitation he brought his elbow back sharply, landing a thudding blow. A mournful scream filled the air as Punk scrambled away from the giant’s grasp. He barely made it to his knees before the first man was upon him. One jab landed right on Punk’s nose with a nasty crack and he tasted the familiar tang of blood on his lips. Another jab, on the jaw this time, snapping his head to the side and splitting his bottom lip.

Punk stumbled, gritting his teeth. Focus! Focus! The giant hands were on him again, this time around his upper arms, pinning them behind Punk’s back, holding him tight and raising him to his feet. Briefly, he looked into the bloody face of the first man, his grin large and sadistic and he plunged his fist into Punk’s mid-drift. The breath left Punk as his legs turned to jelly and he collapsed. He gasped for breath, trying to suck in air between bouts of coughs, feeling like he was going to lose his lunch.

The giant hands released him and he sank to his knees, his head swimming with the taste of blood and the throb of pain.

He heard the smack more than he felt it. The swift kick to his temple knocked him to the ground like a ragdoll. He landed with an almighty thud and found he could not move his limbs. He could feel the knee pressing into his shoulder blades, feel his free hand being forced behind his back and into the cuffs but he couldn’t make his body react.

He knew this feeling. The feeling of dreaming even though he was awake, the loss of control over his body, the confusion of his senses.

The bitter familiarity of a concussion.

‘You got him?’ He heard a voice somewhere nearby but far away in the distance.

‘I got him, he’s done.’ A booming voice replied, filling the entire room like a wave on the beach.

‘Shit! What do we do now?’

‘Call him and ask.’

Footsteps pacing, sounding like a herd of elephants rampaging through his skull.

‘Hey, it’s me. Yeah, well, the plan’s gone to shit! This random asshole walked in and… yeah, he’s still here. Yeah, he’s alive... Yeah, that’s the guy! You sure about that?’

The darkness was creeping into Punk’s vision and he knew he was going under. A small part of him was telling him no, don’t fall asleep, you can’t, you’re in too much danger but the blackness was inviting, warm, comforting.

‘What’d he say?’

‘Change of plan. We’ve to take him back instead.’


	5. Chapter 5 (AJ Lee)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning - This chapter contains scenes of torture*

AJ sat in Vince McMahon’s office, her whole body shaking viciously. This was all her fault. They kept telling her it wasn’t but it had to be. This man, this stalker, whoever he was, had become obsessed with her, followed her, recorded every move she made. He had built her up to be the most infallible being in the world. Perfection in his eyes.

Then he had seen her with Punk on their first dates and followed them, growing such anger and hatred against their being together. It had torn his vision of her to pieces. Given him murderous rage and a thirst for vengeance.

And now that madman had taken CM Punk!

It wasn’t until Punk didn’t turn up for his match that everybody knew something was wrong. Ever the professional, it was so out of character that the alert was raised immediately. When Kofi had asked AJ if she had seen him, she had run to the bus, Kofi in hot pursuit. She found the blood splattered on the floor and the Championship belt abandoned next to the bed.

Kofi found the greetings card. One with cute cats cuddling on the front and black, scrawled writing inside reading: _‘The gods smile on me today. I have him, the parasite that had fed off your virtue for so long. Like a denizen of the devil he will be returned to the dirt, but I will spare him if you come to me. I’ll be in touch, my love, my goddess, my all.’_

Vince had AJ taken to his office to try and calm her down while they waited for the police - a trait that McMahon was not exactly known for. He was waffling away behind his desk, while AJ sat cradling her coffee and picturing the blood soaking into the carpet back on the bus.

They were both interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Vince barked for the visitor to come in and a very sheepish stagehand appeared. AJ heard the two men exchange words under their breath before Vince accepted a brown manila envelope and the stagehand left. He glanced over at AJ and her eyes widened. The envelope was from the kidnapper!

She made to grab the envelope but Vince gently pushed her hands away. ‘Please, let me.’ AJ nodded silently and watched as Vince ripped the top of the package open. Out tipped another greetings card and a flash drive. Vince looked over the card before picking up the USB.

‘What does it say, tell me?’ AJ pleaded.

‘The card is mainly babble, but he wants you to watch what’s on this flash drive on the titantron, live on air tonight. He says he’s watching and if you don’t do it, he will kill Punk.’

‘Then we’d better be quick before the show ends.’ AJ picked herself up and rubbed the tears from her eyes as she left the office, her insides knotting up at the thought of what was on that USB.

* * *

AJ made her way down to the ring as her music blared from the titantron. The crowd looked on confused, why wasn’t AJ skipping down the ring with her adorable smile as normal?

AJ slipped between the ropes and waited. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes but she batted them away with the back of her hand. This was no time to be weak. She had to be strong. For Phil!

Her heart skipped a beat when the huge screen in front of her burst into life and a stranger stared back at her. He had a very unsettling face, rotund and oily, eyes large and intense that seemed to both stare into the depths of her soul but also right past her into oblivion. His nose was long and narrow, a complete contrast to his large, glistening lips. They looked like two leeches full of blood, she noted with a shudder. So this was him, the man who had followed her for months, her stalker.

‘My goddess, my love, at last we see each other. I am not worthy to be in your presence, nothing but a worm compared to your beauty. I have watched you from afar though, I have been close to you, closer than you even know.’ AJ shivered at the thought. ‘I know your thoughts and your dreams. I know your secrets, AJ. And you have a big secret now don’t you? Something you would like to share with the rest of the WWE Universe, right? That you’re nothing but a whore!’ The crowd began to boo, not realising this wasn’t a promo, but a real life video from a real life psychopath.

‘A filthy, disgusting whore! How could someone so perfect and pure allow an insect to feast upon her? To have a dirty, lower level of lifeform crawl on her skin and devour her perfection?’ The boos began to grow around her and her trembling became worse.

‘But I have the insect now. I have plucked the tick from your flesh. I have him here with me, would you like to see?’ AJ sucked in her breath as the camera panned to the corner of the room and fixed on a figure squirming in his bonds. AJ let out a staggered sigh as she saw CM Punk was still alive.

Alive, but in a poor state!

He had been chained to a round pillar, stripped down to his ring gear with blood caked on his face and chest. His arms were forced up above his head and handcuffed, the restraints tearing through the tape on his wrists and leaving bloody smudges. A nasty gash tore through his left eyebrow, a trail of blood flowing past his blackening eye to mingle with the red flood dripping from his nose and busted lip. Clearly fed up of his big mouth, his captors had gagged him with a rag between his teeth and tied tightly behind his head. His hair, normally slicked back, was a ragged mess, standing up in tufts from being manhandled by his captors.

His stretched torso was caked in dried blood and a purple bruise enveloped his right ribcage. A ragged laceration sliced through the skull and serpent tattoo on his chest. A fresher wound that the others, bright ruby blood was still trickling down, the red lines oozing, blotting out the inked letters ‘Straight Edge’ over his stomach.

An extra measure had been taken to ensure he didn’t fight back. His knees and feet were as dangerous as his fists, so his legs had been forced apart and slightly around the sides of the pillar, a chain connecting his ankles from the back.

He was pinned, helpless and in pain and it broke AJ’s heart.

The WWE Universe was livid! Here was their champion, bound in chains and beaten to within an inch of his life. Many fans began booing loudly, but the smarter ones were silent. They could tell something wasn’t right here, that this wasn’t just a work. For a promo, the camera work was shoddy, the graphic depiction of the wounds not suitable for the PG rating, but most telling, was the absolute terror that was so obvious on AJ’s face, all of which told them that this was a real-life horror playing out live.

‘We have danced long enough, you and I. AJ, it is time for me to claim you and raise you back into the light. I will send you more instructions later so that you can come to me. And you _will _come to me, or the parasite you claim to love will suffer for your failings. Let me show you that I am serious.’

AJ’s stomach lurched as she watched her stalker walk off camera for a few seconds and return with a large steel wrench dangling from his hand. He nodded sharply towards Punk and another man appeared on the screen, taller and leanly muscled. Striding up to Punk, he casually backhanded him across the face. While his victim was reeling from the attack, he pulled Punk’s right leg forward as much as the chains would allow and pinned it against the pillar by placing his foot just below Punk’s knee. Punk began to struggle, his cries of protest nothing more than muffled roars thanks to the gag between his teeth. The wrench was raised and hung in the air.

AJ couldn’t tear her eyes away in time as she watched the wrench come crashing down onto Punk’s vulnerable ankle. The sound of metal hitting metal rang through her whole body, sickening her to the very core. She heard the muffled scream of agony echo through the silent stadium around her. The whole arena bristled with horror in unison.

_Clang! _Another blow and one more. AJ was sure she could hear the bone in Punk’s ankle splintering, blood churning cracks as the joint was beaten to shards. His screams sounded like a dying animal raising its head to the sky in pain, demanding that somebody release him from his torture. She could hear screams around her too, members of the audience letting out their shock and terror at the scene before them. The squeals of children crying into their parent’s sides while they covered their eyes away from the brutality. Voices rising in anguish and anger, a froth forming as the tension began to boil over.

The wrench was discarded. A final shot lingered over Punk as his shattered leg was released and his whole body crumpled, no longer able to be supported by his broken ankle. The chains at his wrist snapped taught and he dangled like a stunned lamb, ready for the slaughter. He didn’t move, passed out from the pain. The screen went dark.

AJ was swallowed by the noise around her. The sounds of thousands of people yelling, screaming, cries of fury and calls for revenge. The voices churned into one as AJ stumbled out through the ropes, up the ramp and into the back. Through the melee of noise, she could still hear the clang of metal, the crack of bone breaking and the strangled screams.

She became aware of a dull feeling of being held and could just make out the face of Kofi through her shock. He held her close, his teeth gritted tightly as he spoke comforting words to her. She couldn’t make them out, as if he was slurring under water. There were figures all around her but she couldn’t see any features, just shadows.

She followed obediently, blind and deaf, stricken mute, as she was ushered through the locker rooms to Vince’s office once again. He looked like a petrified spirit, his face pale and sunken in at the cheeks, his eyes gleaming a watery red. He spoke, but again it sounded like he was far away. It wasn’t until he passed an envelope scrawled in sickly familiar black ink that AJ forced herself to take notice.

‘… this was left for you, he says you have to meet him. He says you are to go alone. If he sees any cops or somebody with you, he will leave and kill Punk. But, you can’t go April, we won’t let you. You are clearly suffering with the shock of that…. scene, and we’ll take care of you. The police are here now, they are searching his bus and they will find him. Trust me, they will. We just have to be patient and….’

‘… and Phil? Will he just have to patient too? While they torture him? Break more of his bones?’ April stared wild–eyed at her boss who stared back silently, his jaw hanging limply from his skull. He started to speak but she cut him off, getting to her feet, the envelope clutched between her fingers. ‘I need some air.’

‘I’ll send Kingston-‘

‘Leave me alone.’

She felt her way through the corridors, the sight of metal hitting bone playing over and over in her mind. She could feel the eyes of everybody she passed staring at her. She kept walking, quickening her pace as she went until she found an empty room. Throwing herself inside, she slumped against the wall, her body crumbling under her, just like Punk had done on his dying ankle. Her emotions came flooding out of her like a tsunami. Her shoulder shook violently as she screamed into her balled up fists, her face soaked through with tears. Her stomach turned violently and she lost her lunch, barely wiping her mouth before her next bout of screams started again.

She continued in this way for what seemed like hours, but was barely five minutes before she had exhausted herself completely and she fell back against the wall drained of feeling.

She felt a rumble in her pocket. Bringing out her phone, she found a text message asking her to open her ‘Find Iphone’ app. The location of their meeting point pulsed, a mere mile or two away. _How did he-? Never mind!_

‘Better now? Good, we’ve got to get going.’ She snatched the envelope off the cold stone floor.


	6. Chapter 6 (CM Punk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning! This chapter contains scenes of sexual assault and attempted rape!**

Punk didn’t believe in God, but even he had to admit, his thoughts right now were sounding a lot like a prayer. _Please end this. Please stop the pain._

His whole body was either numb or throbbing in agony. He hadn’t felt his fingers in hours and the toes on his right foot had crawled away for all he knew. His left ankle, forced to carry his entire body weight was protesting heavily. Every so often, it had enough, giving out and shifting the weight onto his broken limb. He would collapse before he had a chance to think, the pain from his ankle shooting up his entire body, his 6ft2 frame snapping as the cuffs holding his arms up gave resistance. He had suffered enough whiplash in one night to last a life time. His wrists were covered in torn flesh from where the cuffs were slicing into his skin.

As sick as he was of constantly collapsing on his ankle, his captors were really starting to show their frustration. Every time they could hear the hollow clang reverberating from the metal pillar, they shot him looks that could kill. A couple times more and they would probably decide to be done with him, just cut their losses and rid themselves of their troublesome victim.

The kidnappers had to admit, they’d picked the wrong person to take hostage. Punk knew this and was using every weapon in his arsenal to make their lives as difficult as possible. When they’d abducted him, they’d made the mistake of cuffing his hands but not his feet, so when they arrived at the warehouse and fished him out from the trunk, the huge bozo got Punk’s boot in his face. Still tender from where he’d received Punk’s elbow earlier, the giant had fallen to the floor, allowing Punk to make a run for it. He made it as far as the car park entrance before the other man, the one he’d hit with his Championship belt, tackled him to the gravel.

Punk wasn’t done though. He turned sharply and kneed the leaner man in the groin. As his captor writhed in pain, Punk wriggled to his feet and rained down several brutal kicks before the giant recovered and ran up behind him. A cheap shot to the kidneys was enough to cool their victim down until they dragged him inside. His feet were the first thing to be shackled to the pillar.

Now with his hands and feet chained, Punk had used his big mouth to irk his kidnappers. Once he was safely secured to the pillar, he finally came face to face with AJ’s psychotic stalker and the atmosphere turned very nasty indeed. It was abundantly clear how much venom this oily slob had for Punk, calling him ‘parasite’ and ‘low level filth’. Punk shot back with his own insults, an arrogant grin carved onto his face. He had a natural talent for getting under people’s skin.

He had paid the price though. The large gash across his chest was a result of this encounter. The gag was another.

Punk hissed through the rag in his mouth (made from his own torn up shirt) as he forced himself back up onto his intact but exhausted ankle, feeling it groan with protest again. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the throbbing in his skull. This goddamn concussion was the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of his misery. He had put a brave front on so far but the cracks were starting to show. He had already been stuck here for several hours, but he couldn’t see how much longer he was going to last.

Bozo and Doofus, the loving nicknames he had given to his kidnappers, were milling around the warehouse keeping watch over their prize. Bozo, being the largest and less mobile of the two, had the unenviable task of watching their victim while Doofus, the leaner and quicker model, was walking the perimeter to make sure nobody approached their base.

Bozo looked up from his unsavoury magazine and fixed Punk with a stern look as the WWE Champion started banging his cuffed fists against the hollow pillar again, trying to irritate his guard as much as possible.

‘Quit it!’ he growled, his nerves near reaching boiling point. ‘How many times do I need to tell you? Fucking stop it or I’ll break your other ankle.’

‘Then fucking come over here and fucking break it,’ Punk retorted, but the brave statement was completely lost as it came out in nothing but mumbles and hisses through his gag.

‘Sorry, come again,’ Bozo held his hand up to his ear, mocking his victim. ‘You will behave now? Oh, good.’

Furious, Punk began spitting more venom at the giant to no avail before banging his cuffs against the pillar even more loudly than before.

‘Right, that’s it,’ Bozo snapped, throwing his magazine to the ground. He shot up from his seat, the chair rocking back onto the floor with a bang that echoed through the large empty room and lumbered up to the shackled man. Punk stared him down defiantly, anger flashing through his hazel eyes. He never broke his glare once as the giant stared him down, raising his huge meat of a fist.

‘Job’s coming.’ Doofus called out as the sound of tyres running over gravel sounded from outside. The two kidnappers were hired hands and referred to their employers by the same codename, Job, to keep their contractor’s identity secret. Punk preferred his own nickname for the stalker: Big-Fat-Greasy-Low-Life.

Job kept the engine running as he popped his head in the door. ‘Right, come on then. You (pointing to Bozo), you’re with me. You (looking at Doofus), you stay here and keep an eye on him. Try _not_ to kill him before we get back.’ Doofus’ face dropped, showing he was very unhappy with the task he’d been assigned. ‘HEY, LEECH!’ Punk looked across the room with poison in his eyes at Job. ‘If you’re good, we’ll let you say good bye to AJ, when we come back with her.’

For the first time since his kidnapping, Punk dropped his macho façade. His body dropped as the colour drained from his face. Just as sudden as the shock hit him, the red mist descended and he lost control. He screamed profanities through his gag and used every ounce of strength to try and break free from his restraints, wanting nothing more than to strangle the life from the man across the room. All three men smirked at Punk’s rage and his pathetic attempt to loosen his bonds, seeing their first psychological victory over their victim all night.

Bozo and Job left, still laughing at his torment and Punk’s anger simmered into frustration. He stopped squirming and looked down at the floor, his breath coming out in short, sharp pants. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth through the fabric stuffed in his mouth. He imagined AJ in the clutches of these twisted men and it made him sick to the very core. He wished with every fibre of his being that she was smart enough to not fall into their trap. _Don’t do anything stupid, Ape. Even if it means I don’t come out of this alive, just don’t do anything stupid._

Punk’s thoughts were interrupted by the shriek of a metal chair dragging on the stone floor. He looked up through the strands of hair, dangling over his face and watched as Doofus slowly walked towards him, hauling the chair behind him. When he was a few feet away, he pulled the chair in front of him and sat down, resting his arms on the chair’s back. Punk stared daggers at the lean man, watching as he sat, smiling sadistically, his eyes wandering over the handiwork he had helped create over the course of the evening. Punk couldn’t hold back a slight shiver as he felt the man’s eyes feasting on him.

‘Alone at last,’ Doofus smirked, his voice calm and serene. Punk spluttered out an inaudible retort. ‘Sorry, I can’t quite hear you through that gag. Here, allow me.’ As quick as a snake, he shot up and was suddenly inches away from Punk’s face. Punk barely held back the shock at the man’s close proximity. Ever since they had come face to face back on the bus, there had been something about this guy that made Punk uncomfortable and that feeling had only grown during the evening. He was not happy about being along with him. Not in his present state, where his nerves were almost at their breaking point.

Doofus, slowly reached his arms out either side of Punk’s head and softly untied the gag. ‘There now, is that bett-ugh.’ Punk spat into his captor’s face, his spit a shade of crimson as it mingled with the blood from his busted nose and lip.

‘I’ve been wanting to do that all night,’ he hissed, feeling relief at being able to speak again.

A hand shot out and clamped tightly onto Punk’s cheeks, forcing the grin from his face. Doofus looked menacingly at the pinned wrestler and his smirk climbed even higher. ‘And I’ve wanted to do _this_ all night.’ He sprung in, locking Punk’s lips in his, forcing his tongue into Punk’s mouth. Punk was so taken aback he didn’t know what to do. He tried feebly to close his mouth but the strong grip on his face stopped him. He tried yanking his head away but to no avail. He could taste the stink of this guy’s breath in his nostrils, feel the strange tongue force itself around his mouth, hear the rumble of laughter from his throat. He had to pull away. He had to do something to stop this!

Punk had an idea and shifted his weight onto his broken ankle. His body collapsed, yanking him out of the unwanted embrace. Once his mouth was free, he spat onto the floor again and again, trying to dislodge the horrible taste from his lips.

His blood froze as he heard a small laugh from directly above him. ‘Cute,’ Doofus cooed before he pulled Punk back up again and pinned him with his forearm under Punk’s chin. His free arm reached up and grabbed a handful of Punk’s raven hair and held tightly. Punk was fully pinned down and helpless and his captor forced his tongue into his mouth again, taking his time to enjoy every second of the intrusion.

After what seemed like forever, Doofus released his hold from Punk who immediately began spitting again.

‘You son-of-a-bitch! I am going to fucking kill you for that!’

‘Now now, simmer down, or do I need to gag you again?’

‘You know what, fucking gag me again! If it keeps your filthy tongue out of my mouth, then please, I beg you, fucking gag me again!’

Doofus chucked calmly as Punk let go of his wrath. ‘You’ve such a short fuse.’ Punk snarled at him, his lower jaw jutting forward, his nose crinkling up as his green eyes locked furiously on the predator. ‘No, I don’t think I’ll gag you again. I like hearing you when you’re rattled. Let’s see if I can rattle you some more.’

Punk felt Doofus’ hands softly caress down his naked chest and over his stomach, momentarily trailing across the arch where his ‘Straight Edge’ tattoo was inked before they settled on the waistband of his trunks. Punk took a sharp intake of breath as his captor’s deft fingers reached in and pulled out the ties of his tights. His breathing started to quicken and his face tightened as he looked into his jailor’s eyes. Doofus smiled back on getting the reaction he wanted.

His fingers slowly untied the knot keeping Punk’s trunks up. With each movement, Punk was started to lose control. As it finally came undone and he could feel his tights slacken, Punk burst forward, throwing his kidnapper’s hands off him and raining down a torrent of profanities and threats.

He received a harsh punch in the gut for his efforts.

The wind knocked out of him, Punk fell limply. His jailor once again heaved him back up and pinned him with his forearm under Punk’s chin. He locked his eyes with Punks’ and smiled malevolently.

His heavy boot stamped onto Punk’s shattered ankle.

His mouth now free from the gag, Punk gave out a twisted scream of agony. Doofus thrust his forearm into his victim’s throat, cutting off the scream and banging Punk’s throbbing skull against the metal pillar. It had the desired effect. Punk’s screaming was reduced to nothing more than heavy panting, whistling through his clenched teeth.

Cold, steely fingers entered the waistband of Punk’s tights and travelled down his pelvis until they found their prize. ‘Gah,’ Punk yelled as he felt the intrusive grasp on his body. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The invading hand cupped his full manhood and squeezed brutally. Punk yelled again but it came out as stuttered coughs. His shoulders were heaving up and down with his laboured breathing and he screwed his eyes tightly to stop the tears that were forming. _No, he was not going to crack. He was not going to be weak._

The chuckle resumed beside him as his jailor gently kissed his cheek. ‘What’s wrong? Are you not enjoying it?’

‘Fuck you,’ Punk gasped, his resilience failing him by the minute.

‘Fuck _you_? Heh, if you insist.’ Punk’s eyes sprung open with horror as his body was released. He stole a few moments to compose himself and enjoy the freedom, when he heard the click of a cuff being sprung open. He looked down to see his broken ankle free from its restraints.

Doofus had sprung back onto his feet again and before Punk could react, he had turned his victim and thrust his face into the cold metal pillar. Punk started against the cold feeling against his chest and the pain as his arms were crossed at a strange angle above him.

‘Aggghh!’ A heavy blow was dealt across his backside, followed by a brutal squeeze.

‘Well, this is different,’ Doofus smirked, his hot breath on Punk’s neck. ‘Every time we get a job like this, I make sure I get a little taste of the pie. Of course, the pie this time was meant to be that hot Latina chick you’ve been fucking, but… beggars can’t be choosers. My dick has been looking forward to this all day and I’m not going to say no just because you’re a guy. This is the 21st century after all.’

The façade was splintering, falling into pieces around him. Punk gasped out as he felt his trunks being forced down around his thighs. The tears stubbornly formed on his cheek as he could hear the man behind him spitting into his hand. His whole body tensed up, shivering with fear as he felt the moistened fingers try to force their way between his clenched cheeks.

‘Come on now. You’d better relax or you’ll make this a whole lot worse on-‘

The molestor stopped, his hand slid away from Punk’s body. The whole room became quiet except for the sounds of Punk’s gasping breaths.

That… and the sound of tyres on the gravel outside!

Punk heard Doofus swear under his breath, felt his trunks being roughly heaved up again, giving him back his dignity. He was turned so that his back faced the pillar once more and his ankle was placed back into its shackle. Like nothing had happened!

But the damage had been done! Punk’s façade was a ragged mess. This episode had all but broken him. He looked at his tormentor through glazed eyes and swore an oath – that if he ever got out of this alive, he would get the bastard back for this.

Punk lowered his head and his breathing rattled back into a slower rhythm. He felt exhausted and emotionally drained. Softly, sleep was starting to take him over.

‘PHIL!’ Drowsiness left him as he looked up. The tattered remains of his strength turned to dust and blew away in the wind as he saw AJ run across the warehouse towards him.


	7. Chapter 7 (AJ Lee)

AJ threw her arms around Punk’s neck and squeezed him tightly. She could feel his blood and sweat moisten her cheeks, but to feel his stuttered, warm breath in her ear was the sweetest thing in the world. He was here. He was alive!

She pulled back to look into his hazel eyes and her heart fell to see the battered face staring back at her, his expression twisted with dismay. ‘No, Ape, no! You shouldn’t be here! You need to go, now! NOW!’ His legs collapsed underneath him but AJ kept her grip firm on him.

‘Phil, I came for you-‘

‘No, forget me. Please go, GO, before…’ his voice wavered in and out as he threatened to lose consciousness. AJ looked desperately around her and spotted the tall, lean man she recognised from the video earlier. He was leaning casually against a table a few feet away, a nasty scowl on his face. She had the sudden impression that she had interrupted something.

AJ stormed over to the man. ‘Get him down from there, now!’ The man sneered back at her but he did not move. ‘Get. Him. Down. NOW!!!’

‘Release him,’ Job’s voice cut through the warehouse as he marched his way across the room. The lean man snorted but got up and sauntered towards the limp WWE Champion. AJ watched as he leaned close into Punk, the two exchanging a few hushed words. She couldn’t make them out but looking at their faces, she could tell that they were venomous.

The lean man bent down and removed the chain from Punk’s feet. She forced down a pocket of vomit as she thought about the shattered ankle, hidden in the confines of his boot.

She saw Punk’s entire body flinch as the lean man put his arm around the hostage’s torso. He released one of Punk’s arms and it flopped uselessly. The second arm was released from the cuff and he fell forward and slumped onto the kidnapper’s shoulder. AJ watched, disgusted at the smirk on the criminal’s face as he whispered one last sentiment into Punk’s ear. His unsettling gaze fell on AJ’s and his smile spread as he released his grip on Punk, the broken superstar falling with a heavy crunch onto the stone floor.

AJ scrambled over and shielded Punk’s prone body with her own. She pulled him into her embrace, gently holding his head up and looking into his eyes. The normally vibrant olive green eyes were glazed over, his exhaustion evident. He was still murmuring under his breath, telling her to leave.

‘Phil, I’m right here. Can you hear me?’ Punk’s heavy eyelids forced themselves open and he focused his look on AJ. Seeing her clearly for the first time, he smiled. AJ couldn’t help but smile on seeing the side of his grin lift up. ‘Phil? Can you fight?’

The smile disappeared and was replaced with an expression that shattered AJ’s heart. She knew that he was hurt and exhausted. She could see how numb and useless his arms were. She knew he couldn’t stand, let alone battle their captors.

She understood how vulnerable he was right now.

But she could also see the last remaining light of pride in his eyes. A look that silently pleaded with her. _‘Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say that they broke me.’_

AJ forced down her emotions rising up her throat. She had to stay strong for the both of them. She nodded a silent reply and Punk’s green eyes fell to the floor.

‘AJ, you should have let me die.’ AJ’s eyes widened in shock. ‘You should never have walked into their trap.

‘But, Phil, I-‘

‘No! You don’t understand, these guys are _maniacs!’_ She watched as Punk looked across at the lean man watching their every move like a scavenging hyena, waiting to pick at the pieces of the carcass.

‘How could you expect me to do that? To sit on my ass and do nothing. Phil, I lov-‘

‘NO!’ Punk growled. His hazel eyes bore into hers and he softly shook his head. ‘Don’t say that. Not here, not now.’

She understood. For her to admit her feelings for Punk in front of these men was to sign both of their death warrants. She nodded again, gulping down her emotions. The tears were starting to form in her eyes. She didn’t want to be silent, she wanted to reveal her whole self to him. She wanted to tell him that she was an idiot for taking it slow, that she had loved him for so long now and been too blind to realise it. That when he was ripped from her earlier the revelation of her love for him had hit her like a lightning bolt.

Yet, she may never see him again… and her words would go unspoken.

‘Ape,’ AJ met Punk’s gaze, a warm yet sad smile on his face. ‘I love you.’ Her heart stopped. ‘I loved you from the moment I saw you. You were sitting cross legged on one of the production crates reading Batman Year One’

AJ’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘But I got that, what, _years_ ago, back in-‘

‘2009.’ Punk smiled, but it was brief and the sadness came back into his face. ‘But I knew you didn’t feel the same. How could you? Look at me. I’m just a dirty, fat slob who never deserved you.’ AJ’s heart ripped in two – he was saying this to save her. A ploy to take away their captor’s jealousy and wrath.

But it also came from his heart – this was him baring his whole soul to her. Underneath that strong, devil-may-care attitude, there was a fragile boy who was always second-guessing himself.

The moment shared between them was suddenly torn to pieces as a slow clap pierced the air.

‘How touching!’ Job’s slimy voice sounded behind AJ. She could feel Punk’s body tense. ‘You are right, vermin, AJ Lee is better than you and always has been. It was sweet of you though, to believe, even for a few weeks that she could have feelings for you.’ Punk cast his eyes down to the ground and kept his mouth firmly shut. ‘What’s that,’ Job resumed. ‘No come backs, no quips, nothing about breaking my face? How refreshing! Now…’ Job’s hand snaked under AJ’s shoulder and pulled her upright and away from Punk. She struggled against him as she watched Punk collapse to the floor, his eyes looking up pleadingly at her stalker.

‘No, let her go! Please, I beg you. I’ll do anything.’

‘_You?_ I don’t need anything from you. You have played your part well and now I have my goddess with me. You have been a pain in my ass, and I will enjoy this all the more for it.’ AJ’s eyes widened in horror as Job pulled a gun from the waistband of his slacks and pointed the muzzle straight at the prone, bleeding man crumpled on the floor. Punk lowered his head, his eyes screwed shut as he waited for the inevitable.

‘WAIT!’ AJ threw herself free of her stalker’s grasp and stood between the gun and Punk. ‘This was not part of the deal. I said I would go with you so long as you let him go.’

‘You’re coming with me whether I stick to the deal or not. Now get out of the way.’

‘Fine, then I will struggle and scream and make every day a living hell for you. I will never stop trying to run away or fight you. You thought _he_ was a frustrating prisoner, you’ve seen nothing yet. I will make you rue the day you ever decided to take me.’ Job’s lip curled with disgust on hearing AJ’s words. ‘But, if you let him go,’ her voice became softer and sweeter. She slowly made her way towards Job. ‘I will go with you willingly. I will be good and never try to escape. I will let you do whatever you want to me.’

‘Ape, you can’t do this,’ Punk choked out from behind her. She blinked back the tears and smiled through trembling lips at Job.

The tension held in the air for an eternity. The warehouse seemed still and silent, with the short, stunted breaths of Punk being the only sound.

Finally, Job lowered the gun.

‘Fine,’ he said, ‘now come with me.’

‘Let me text Kofi first, so he knows where Phil is and can help him.’

‘No-‘ Job yelled but yielded on seeing the rebellion in AJ’s expression return. AJ held out her hand and Job returned her cell phone to her. She quickly sent out a text to Kofi before placing the phone on the floor next to Punk. She knelt down to say her last goodbye and her breathing stopped on seeing tears filling his eyes and running down his cheeks. She had never seen him cry before and it shattered her heart.

She softly caressed his hair and slowly leaned in to kiss him on his temple.

As a fresh batch of tears filled Punk’s eyes, she walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any similarity to Tangled is purely coincidental, I assure you..... *sideways glance*


	8. Chapter 8 (CM Punk)

When Punk awoke, he entered a world of pain. Not just his broken body but the emotional pain of knowing that he had failed the woman he loved. That he had let her be taken by the maniacs who had broken him and now she was ripped away from his life forever.

He felt numb as Kofi Kingston held his head up and poured water down his parched throat. Punk, slipping in and out of consciousness, suckled on the water bottle like a newborn. It was the first drink he had been afforded all night and even though it burned his throat, it was the sweetest elixir.

‘That’s it, man, drink up. You’re going to be alright, yeah. We’re gonna get you out of here.’ Kofi’s voice wavered like ripples on the surface of a pool. Punk pulled his lips away from the bottle and let the water run over his bruised face. The cool wetness helped to restore his senses and he shook his head vigorously.

Ignoring Kofi’s kind words above him, Punk focused on his hands and watched with glee as he could feel his fingers again and wiggled them back to life. That had been the worst feeling: the numbness of his arms once they had been released from the cuffs. They had flopped like two overcooked strands of spaghetti, vulnerable and useless. Now there was a pulsating agony through them as the blood returned to their regular flow. It was painful, but satisfying.

And with the feeling returning to his arms, his resolve returned as well.

‘We have to find her, Kofi,’ Punk stated, cutting Kingston off mid-flow. His friend watched aghast at the sudden recovery. Punk heaved himself up onto his knees, and using Kofi as leverage, strained to pull himself upright onto his good foot.

‘Uh, Punk, you’re not gonna get far with a broken ankle. Shouldn’t we get your boot off and see to that?’

‘No,’ Punk scoffed. ‘That boot’s the only thing holding it together right now. Come on, we’re running out of time.’ Kofi sat on his haunches as he watched Punk stubbornly hop towards the warehouse door.

‘Dude, we don’t even know where AJ is. Where we gonna go? Only the police can help her now and you need a doctor.’

‘I’m fine. I just… I need to do _something_. I can’t leave her with those psychopaths. I need to find her. I promised her I would protect her. I made a promise…’ he fell against the wall as the hopelessness of the situation reared its ugly head. Punk lifted his bloody, taped hand and ran it over his face, his mind racking for ideas.

Looking up, he found Kofi standing next to him, something in his hand being offered to Punk.

AJ’s phone!

Punk took it from Kofi and his hand dropped. ‘Fine,’ he consented. ‘I’ll go to the hospital, but let me speak to the cops first.’

* * *

Punk squirmed in the car seat on the way back to the arena. Every time the car shuddered, pain shot up his whole body. He closed his eyes and tried to take his focus away from the agony. It didn’t work as he felt AJ’s soft lips on his skin, he could see her walk away from him, he could hear her whisper in his ear.

_‘Let’s see if I can rattle you some more.’_

‘Gah,’ Punk woke with a jolt, almost making a shocked Kofi swerve the car off the road.

‘Jesus, you alright?’

Punk felt a cold sweat embalm his body, the white of his eyes showing as he panted heavily. He shook the voices from his head and turned back to the road. ‘Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.’ He looked down at AJ’s phone still clutched in his tattooed fingers. He gulped down the lump in his throat as he stared at the blank screen in front of him. He had held the phone tightly since Kofi had given it to him – the one last piece of AJ he had left.

With a trembling thumb he pressed the home button and his heart sank to see the happy couple plastered on her lock screen. It was from their first date. AJ was right; he had worn his Cubs cap that day. He smiled sadly as he looked at the couple in the selfie, both wore large grins.

He had remembered feeling so nervous for the date, but all the nerves and tension had evaporated as soon as he had seen her walking towards him. It had been a hot day and she had worn a floral summer dress, her long, beautiful hair tied in bunches. He had felt so underdressed in his cargo shorts, T-shirt and filthy baseball cap, but AJ had kissed him on his bearded cheek all the same.

As his mind wandered back, he absentmindedly brushed the screen of the phone and the photo disappeared. Instead, a map showed with a blue circle pulsing as it slowly moved along a grey line. A crease appeared between Punk’s eyebrows as he scanned the map, trying to figure out what it could be.

‘TURN AROUND!’

Once again, Kofi swerved suddenly. ‘Holy hell, dude, stop doing that!’

‘Turn around, turn around now!’ Punk was giddy, his hand slapping off the dashboard to accentuate every word.

‘What? Why? What’s going on?’

‘Oh April Jeanette Mendez, you are the most amazing woman in the world!’

‘HUH?’

Punk showed the phone screen to Kingston. ‘ I don’t know how she did it, but she’s tracking Job… uh, the stalker guy’s, phone. She’s letting us know where she is. QUICK! Turn off here, right, RIGHT!’

Kofi followed his order and soon found himself on the motorway out of the city. ‘Come on, they’re getting further away from us. Pick up the pace, Kingston.’

‘I’m already at the limit-‘

‘Fuck the limit! Faster! FASTER!’

The rental car shuddered under the incredible speed. Kofi’s eyes were about popping out of his skull as he focused every piece of concentration on the road in front of him. He shot a quick look to his left and saw Punk leaning forward in his seat, his teeth glinting in a manic smile as he cackled away with glee. He barked each direction with relish before laughing again, his tongue snaking over his lips like a corny cartoon character.

‘SHIT! We’ve got a cop car behind us.’

Punk turned in his seat and let out another crazed cackle. ‘YES! Keep going, faster!’

‘But, we’ll get arrested!’

‘Yes, we fucking will. And so will those assholes! We’re almost there!’

Sure enough, a black car came into view in front of them. ‘That’s them!’ roared Punk.

‘You sure?’

‘Believe me, you don’t forget a car once you’ve been stuffed into its trunk!’

‘What do I do now?’ Kofi turned to face Punk and his eyes widened when he saw the psychotic expression in his friend’s eyes. He leered back at Kinston, his voice low and threatening.

‘When I say break, hit the breaks as hard as you can.’

‘Why, what are you-‘ Punk pounced forward and grabbed the steering wheel from Kingston. He swerved the rental over to the fast lane, overtaking the black car. Kingston kept his foot on the gas as they zoomed past the car and out in front. Punk took one last look over his shoulder before screaming ‘BREAK’. Kofi planted both feet on the break pedal.

The tyres screeched on the tarmac, shredding rubber burns into the asphalt as the car ground to a halt. Punk yanked the wheel and the car screamed as it skidded, turned and finally stopped, blocking the path of the oncoming car.

Punk stared daggers at the black car coming towards him, seeing Job’s explosive expression through the windscreen, getting closer and closer, with no signs of stopping-

Kingston pulled Punk from the rental mere seconds before the oncoming car ploughed right into its side. The two men tumbled down the grassy verge on the side of the motorway, the shriek of metal twisting and grinding filling their ears. Debris flew around them like bullets.

Punk landed heavily on his back, but was back up in a flash, all of his pain disappeared, even his shattered ankle was forgotten in a massive surge of adrenaline as he bolted towards the car, screaming AJ’s name over and over again.

He ripped the door to the black vehicle open and Bozo flopped out onto the asphalt, unconscious. Punk stepped over the injured man without a care and fought his way into the car. He saw the door at the other side open and Doofus disappear into the darkness. _Another time, then_, Punk thought as he watched his molester fade away into the night.

‘AJ,’ Punk pulled the petite brunette into his arms. She was bleeding from a head wound and was dazed but otherwise seemed fine, he noticed with relief. He pulled her from the smoking wreck onto the grassy verge and squeezed her tight. He was never going to let her go again.

‘AJ, I love you. I’m so sorry. I love you so much!’ he gasped out as he pressed his forehead against hers. In response, she grabbed the bristles on his cheeks and pulled his lips onto hers in a passionate kiss.

‘I love you too,’ she said. A feeling of relief washed over her as she finally revealed her true feelings. She pulled her head away and looked up to the heavens. ‘I love you too!’ she yelled into the night, a huge grin spread across her face. Punk smiled broadly and yanked her in for another kiss.

Suddenly AJ pulled away, her face contorted with horror. Punk looked behind him and saw Job emerge from the wreck, his gun pointed at AJ. Punk jolted as Job squeezed the trigger.

A scream ripped from Punk as he shielded AJ from harm and the bullet tore through his shoulder, taking a large chunk of skin and flesh along with it. Blood splattered down the side of his head and neck, while rivers of crimson cascaded down his chest and back. AJ, panting on the ground under him, looked up with terror as Punk’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell.

‘PHIL! PHIIIILLLLL!’ she screamed, her free hand trying to shake him awake without any success.

‘BITCH! WHORE! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!’ AJ looked on helpless as the man who had caused her so much misery this past week manifested above her, his gun now pointing at her forehead. She was going to die!

The shot ran out and AJ screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the black abyss.

But it didn’t come.

She opened her eyes and watched as Job slumped onto the grass next to her, a ragged bullet wound through his temple. She saw the red lights flashing around them and felt relief wash through her.

It was all over. They were safe.


	9. Epilogue

AJ walked into the hospital ward, the brown paper bag rustling in her arms. She poked her head in through the door of the private room, and smiled.

‘Hi, how is my little Straight Edge Saviour today?’

‘Shut up,’ Punk grinned back.

AJ was jubilant on seeing how well he looked. He had been given the all clear from the doctors and was now able to go home to Chicago for some much deserved rest. AJ had agreed to stay with him for a while and help with his recovery and rehab.

Punk sat on a wheelchair with his arm in a sling and his lower leg in a bandage. He looked far less pathetic in his baggy jeans and PMA T-shirt than he had in his hospital gown, although the fuzz around his face was in dire need of some taming. AJ would easily see to that!

‘You got everything?’ she asked, chirpily.

‘Yeah, all in my bag there,’ Punk thumbed behind him as AJ plopped her brown bag onto his lap. The sudden cold sensation on his stomach made his eyes glisten with joy. His good hand ripped open the bag and found a tub of his favourite ice cream inside. Even a spoon was provided so that he could dig in straight away.

‘April Jeanette Mendez, you are the best in the world, you know that?’

‘I thought that was meant to be you! It’s what you have printed on the back of your T-shirts after all.’

‘I will happily abdicate the throne for you.’

They both giggled merrily as AJ pushed Punk out of the hospital ward and towards the rental car she had parked outside.

‘So, I guess you got your wish.’

‘Mmm? What’s that?’ asked Punk between slurps of ice cream.

‘Our fifth date will be in Chicago. You still going to take me out for this vegan burger then?’

‘Fuck it, woman, you’re already feeding me ice cream, let’s go for a proper burger. Or better yet, a pizza. Nobody does a pizza pie better than Chicago.’

‘Maybe we could go to a Cubs game? Or the Blackhawks?’

She looked down to see two hazel eyes glistening back at her, absolutely ecstatic. ‘I love you,’ Punk sighed, happily.

She leant over the back of the chair and kissed Punk on his waiting lips.

‘I love you too!’


End file.
